A flower blooming in concrete says you, too, can hold on

RICHMOND, Va. -- Thursday afternoon I noticed a little petunia that had taken root in a tiny crack in a slab of Midtown concrete.

Its bright purple flower waved in the soft but hot breeze, announcing that it was a survivor - reminding me if there's a will, there's a way.

I took comfort in it, and sent of photo of it to my youngest daughter, Mina Beck in Colorado City.

Mina and her 2 1/2-year-old son Easton are at the Colorado Springs Children's Hospital this week.

Mina and Easton

Easton is in for a three-day or more comprehensive monitoring of his seizures, taking him off his meds to see how the seizures track through his brain, which suffered some damage during a fetal stroke. He'll have to fight a bit to properly use his left hand and leg.

Thursday morning Easton had the seizure they were looking for, but it was so severe they had to put him on a ventilator for a bit.

Scary, for sure. But important. Doctors hopefully will be able to be read the complex data and devise a successful long-term treatment plan.

Still, my heart ached for Easton, and Mina and her husband. They'll be busy.

I know there are many of you in a similar spot. You're facing a big challenge. You or a loved one are fighting through illness, disease, a physical or mental breakdown. You wonder if you - or they - can hold on and bloom.

Please know that many of the most accomplished figures in history were like this flower.

They found themselves in a crack at birth, or due to a later accident or circumstance.

The list is so long, from Stephen Hawking to Stevie Wonder.

Our first great mile-runner, Glenn Cunningham, lost parts of his leg and foot in an explosion as a child and wasn't even supposed to walk.

Beethoven composed some of his most famous works after he had gone deaf.

Yankee pitcher Jim Abbott threw a no-hitter - one-handed.

You know what Helen Keller overcame. Surfing great Bethany Hamilton still chases championships after losing her arm to a shark.

I'm reminded of my oldest daughter, Christian Holmberg Potes, who suffered a blood vessel rupture in her brain at age 14. Surgeons couldn't stop the bleeding and had to cut out part of her brain the size of an apricot. They wondered if she'd survive, let alone thrive.

She's a nurse now, with two sons.

That little flower reminded me of all that as I worried about little Easton and prayed.

Miracles, big and small, happen every day, that petunia said. You just have to hold on and believe you will blossom.